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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608091">Tell me the time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dialtown: Phone Dating Sim (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:20:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Randy wants to move on with his life. Oliver wants his to stay in the past.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Randy Jade &amp; Oliver Swift, Randy Jade/Oliver Swift</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tell me the time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ohoohohoiehfgf I’m tired sorry the first chapter is so short</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Every time Randy says “Hi, my name is Randy Jade, and I’m feelin’ Randy tonight!” He swears his soul dies a little bit.     </p><p>Long days of swan wrangling, to swan fighting, to swan-induced injury makes a man tired, you know? And after all of that he has to say that stupid fucking catchphrase and talk “sexy” into the deep hours of the night. He hates it, for sure. Hates having to commute back and forth constantly, hates having to talk gross old men into orgasms through his shitty phone microphone, hates having to go home with nothing but loose change in his pocket as he heats up a hot pocket in his shitty apartment that he can barely afford.   </p><p> He can barely even find solace in the fact that he’ll probably get an insurance claim when he dies an early death. Barely. He doesn’t want to be rich or anything, he just wants to have more standards for himself.</p><p>He lies in bed at night, desperately wishing that maybe he can find a nicer job. One that doesn’t involve running around, getting beaten up by swans. Or, a job that doesn’t include awkward phone sex. God, really, he wants to go on a date. Wants to be reassured by a cute guy or girl, be told that he’s not useless in every way, and that he’ll be ok.<br/>
It’s a long shot, but the mere prospect of it has got him practically foaming at the mouth. He genuinely doesn’t care who anymore, he just wants to get away. Get away from his shitty dead end jobs. His shitty dead end life.</p>
<hr/><p>Every time Oliver looks around from behind the snack counter at the sad, decomposing cinema he feels a part of his soul die.</p><p>The sticky carpet, the grainy seats, the flickering lights, everything about the place is falling apart at the seams. The dead rats, the popcorn glued to the floor via a mixture of soda and melted candy, the fading posters. The place is falling apart quickly and certainly. He knows the end is coming, but he can't move on.     </p><p>Oliver knows that there’s probably no way to save the place. He could throw together a feature length film about some cryptids, he can try and renovate the place best he can, but he knows the end is coming. </p><p>He knows that with every sticky, sad step he takes is just prolonging the inevitable. The internet is taking over fast and there’s no way to stop it.</p><p>Old man Dickens' dream is slowly, no, quickly falling apart and he desperately wants to keep it from happening. Not for himself, but for Mr.Dickens.</p><p>Everyday, he prays to a god he doesn’t believe in to make the days all the same as the one before it. So he never has to let go of the cinema, cursed as it may be. So Mr. Dickens never has to let go. He can't let time pull it away.</p><p>Randy desperately wants to move on. Oliver desperately wants everyday to be the same.</p><p>Perhaps they can find solace within each other.</p>
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